


The Call

by hit_the_books



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Betaed, Demons, Destiel -Freeform, First Kiss, Happy Ending, Humans and Shifters Live Together, Hunter Dean, Hurt Castiel, Kidnapped Sam, M/M, Mage Sam, Nudity, Sharing a Bed, Shifter Castiel, Soulmates, Wolf Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-21
Updated: 2017-02-21
Packaged: 2018-09-25 20:06:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9841877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hit_the_books/pseuds/hit_the_books
Summary: Demons are stalking the lands of Dean's people, leaving death in their wake. Together with his shard, the shifter Castiel, Dean sets out to save his people before it's too late.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time taking part in the [Supernatural Reverse Bang](http://spn-reversebang.livejournal.com). It was a privilege to have the opportunity to write a story around the amazing art of [the_miss_lv](http://the-miss-lv.tumblr.com/post/157501194774/destiel-reverse-bang-this-is-the-image-i-did-of-a).
> 
> Thanks to [Hermit9](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Hermit9) for being my beta reader on this fic and for giving me confidence in the story.

Dark muzzle slicked with blood, Castiel’s fierce blue eyes stared up at Dean, uncaring of the sticky crimson. The “demon”, as they’d come to call them, was a twitching mess at their feet, its final resting place a bed of long green plain grass. Castiel quirked his head to the side and whipped his ears around.

Hand tensing on his sword’s grip, Dean spun as Castiel dashed, the second demon caught off guard as they rushed it. Castiel’s jaws were wide open and Dean’s sword arched through the air—the two of them moving in a whirl of sharp edges and muscle.

Jaw snapping around the demon’s left calf, Castiel pulled it down as Dean drove his sword into its chest. A scream like the crashing of rocks and wails of a thousand dying children pierced the air, making their ears ring, but Dean wouldn’t relent, he yanked his sword out of the demon and then drove it in again. And again. And again, until the scream turned into a litany of bloody bubbles and empty breath.

Taking his sword, Dean wiped it on the grass as Castiel circled around him and the dead demons. Nothing but grassy plain stretched on for miles either side of them. Kneeling in the grass, Dean took off the deer skull and horse hair headdress he normally wore on hunts, and threw his arms around Castiel’s neck the moment the shapeshifter padded over to him.

They were alive and whole—they had survived their first solo encounter against demons. All the hunts for game they had been on and the few times they’d been taken out to hunt these monstrosities with others? It had paid off. Relief swept through Dean and Castiel as they clung to each other. It didn’t matter that they were covered in blood, they had killed two demons by themselves, their enemies' smoky corpses dissolving into nothingness right beside them.

“You’re not hurt, are you?” Dean asked the shifter, the wolf, his _shard_.

Cas huffed in Dean’s face and licked his cheek, making the stench of something like rotting eggs wash over Dean—the shifter was fine, Dean was sure. It wouldn’t be long until those two dead demons would be gone, their blood on the grass the only sign that the monsters had ever been there.

 _We should go_ , Cas insisted and Dean nodded, bumping heads with the shifter on purpose.

“Fine, fine.” Dean got Cas just under his jaw and tickled, right where the shifter loved most to be touched. Castiel gave a low happy rumble and then helped Dean to his feet. The two of them checked they had their things, or rather Cas checked that Dean had his as the hunter picked up his bundle and slung it over his back. Putting his skull back on his head, Dean sheathed his sword and the two of them continued to hike through the grassy plain, heading for the mountains they could see to the north. The mountains were but a smudge of white capped gray in the distance, but Dean was sure they’d reach them in a day or so. They had only just broken out onto the plains from the forest that surrounded their people’s lands.

 _You know it would be faster if I carried you_ , Cas pointed out as they navigated around a large crater that had been concealed by the grass. The ancient hole was all that was left from a rising. One of the places where it was claimed that the shards had first come from, but that had been lifetimes ago.

“I know it would be faster, but I just want to… stretch my legs a little.”

Cas snorted and shook his head. _The way you talk, you’d think we were never allowed to leave home._

“But we only ever really leave to go hunting,” Dean pointed out. He was still buzzing with the idea of the sights that they might see while hunting for the tablet that Elder John, Dean’s father, had asked them to find.

 _But this_ is _a hunt_ , Cas retorted. And Dean sighed, his shard was right after all. They were many leagues from their people, many more than any of them would normally range. Looking towards the mountains that were their destination, Dean knew that it would be better for the two of them to get there faster, especially if it meant they could find a way to stop the demons once and for all.

Dean stopped walking and Castiel padded up to him. “Fine,” Dean started, “I’ll ride you, but after all of this… I want us to come back and… explore, or somethin’.”

The shifter bowed his head and then licked Dean’s hand. Laying down, Castiel waited as Dean climbed up onto his back, knowing already where best to grip Castiel’s fur around his back so that he didn’t hurt him. They’d ridden like this hundreds of times, but Castiel always enjoyed carrying Dean, knowing that the hunter (his shard) would be far safer on his back than walking around on two legs.

Testing his hold on Castiel’s coat, Dean thought across their bond, _All ready_. Castiel got to his paws and then he flew again, but this time he was running, rather than dashing into battle. Dean held on as best he could, hands clamped tightly in Castiel’s dark fur, knees clinging to the shifter’s sides. He didn’t mind the dried blood in his shard’s coat.

The first time they had run together like this, Dean had thought he was going to lose his breakfast for sure. The mix of oats, berries and goats milk had churned uncomfortably in his stomach as Castiel had raced along the plains outside their settlement—Dean had been afraid that he was going to puke or fall off or both. But a younger Dean had clung on and kept his breakfast down, quickly learning to love the thrill of riding on Castiel’s back. Sharing his joy across their newly formed bond.

After some time, Cas began to slow his pace and trotted for a while, getting his wind back. Dean surveyed their surroundings as Castiel continued to move still faster than if Dean had been on foot. Sure many of his people rode horses, but this just wasn’t the same; because of how low to the ground he was and the fact that he had no reins to hold onto or a blanket to sit on. Riding with Cas like this, leaning just the right way here and there, brought him even closer to the shifter than one would be riding a horse.

 _We should look for somewhere to camp_ , Castiel pointed out as he slowed further.

Dean scanned their surroundings. There was little cover on the plains, but he could see half-a-league away some boulders and shrubs that would at least offer some cover. _How about over there?_ Dean shared and the shifter looked where he was looking.

 _Hmm, that looks like it would do. I smelled dinner not far from here…_ Castiel loped over to the boulders and let Dean down.

“You would be thinking of your stomach,” Dean groused as he got down from the shifter’s back.

Castiel looked at him with an unimpressed tilt to his head and harshly huffed air out through his shining black nostrils. _Oh, and your stomach hasn’t been rumbling against my stomach for the past hour? Did I imagine that?_

Opening his mouth to speak, Dean was betrayed by his stomach as it loudly rumbled. “Fine, fine. Go hunt. I’ll make camp.”

Cas turned and started to pad away. _Don’t go far_ , the shifter warned before pelting off, streaking through the knee high grass like he was the wind itself.

 _Yes, because I obviously wanna encounter a demon by myself_ , Dean grumbled and that got him a chuckle through his bond with Cas. Dean went about gathering dry grass and rocks. There was a fallen tree in among shrubs, and Dean managed to break off a large branch and take it round between the gray boulders. Using the hatchet he kept at his back, he pared it down and chopped it up. It didn’t take much more for him to get a fire going, ready to roast some meat.

Just as efficiently, Cas returned with a young buck clamped tightly between his jaws. Taking the kill from the shifter, Dean drew out his hunting knife so that he could start cutting the meat from the carcass. He threw a glance at Cas as to ask “how do you want this?” and in answer the shifter melted from his wolf form into his human self.

If Cas looked like a majestic beast as a wolf, he was even more stunning as a human. He wore robes and a cloak of tightly woven azure wool that would shift with him whenever he transformed. The robes went well with his bright blue eyes and mussed up black hair. Dean couldn’t help the smile he gave Cas.

“So you want your share roasted?” Dean asked casually, trying to hold back the nervousness making his stomach clench.

“Please,” Castiel answered. Being in each other’s minds like they often were, Castiel and Dean had become close.

It wasn’t unheard of for sums—two shards who had found each other—to become romantically involved, though it was unusual, especially when both were the same sex. But over the years the two of them had grown more and more attached to each other, their dances circling closer and closer.

Dean looked back at the meat and continued to cut it while Castiel kept their fire fed. If a demon showed up now, Cas could transform within the blink of an eye and Dean would be able to pull out his sword just as quickly, but Castiel still kept watch. The two of them made formidable opponents together, and this had only grown as they experienced more and more battles.

“You think we’ll make it to the temple footway tomorrow?” Dean asked as he started to skewer slices of dark meat on sticks and began roasting it.

Looking out over the darkening plains, Castiel’s keen eyes settled on the mountains in the distance. “Yes, it’s less than a day’s travel now.”

“I… Cas, do you think we’ll find it?” Dean asked, voice wobbling a little.

The two of them had had little to go on when Elder John had sent them out beyond their village’s lands. Dean’s father had known the location of the tablet, but Elder John had not known what else they might find there. Sending his eldest son along with Castiel—with the two of them a sum, their bond unshakable and strong—was their village’s best chance of gaining the means to destroy the demons that threatened their lands.

While shards and sums had walked the world for hundreds of lifetimes, the demons were new and a plague. Castiel shivered as he recalled the villages and other settlements he’d seen raided by the cruel unnatural monsters. They bled like men, like shifters, but that was where the similarities ended. The foul creatures could not be reasoned with.

“Here,” Dean said, passing Cas the first skewer of cooked buck meat. The rich dark meat smelled incredible and while Castiel could tolerate going without food longer than Dean, his stomach rumbled as he breathed in the scent of the meat. Cas bit into it, fat and juices dripping down his throat and over his cheeks.

Dean joined him, and the two of them sat side by side, thighs pressed together, as they devoured the buck. Above them the night sky turned a deep velvety navy, sprinkled with glittering stars.

The food and the fire made both of them feel sleepy, and it wasn’t long after their bellies were full that Dean unrolled their bedding and kicked the fire out. He hoped the two of them might find a stream in the morning, maybe wash off some of the muck from the day. Dean formed a protective circle of salt around their small camp and then he and Cas settled under the blankets Dean had brought. If Cas drifted into Dean’s arms during the night, neither said anything come the dawn light.


	2. Chapter 2

Horses neighed and shifted nearby, the village abed for the night, bar the few of the hunters who had drawn night watch. Samuel, or Sam as he was normally called, looked up at the thatched roof above him, the steeped straw visible in the dim glow from the last of the night’s fire. His mother and father were both abed, but Sam couldn’t sleep, he missed Dean and Castiel. All too often they were the ones that kept the gnawing hole inside him from hurting too much.

Neither Elder John or Elder Mary were shards, but unusually both of their sons were. As soon as a child could talk with any real fluency was when you learned whether your child was a shard. Human or shifter: when a child began to express themselves, parents would anxiously wait to learn if their little one had been born not quite whole.

Always there would be signs before speech, but parents would hope that they were just coincidence. A colicky child or a child prone to bad dreams, but John and Mary knew with Sam, because he’d been just like Dean. Crying no matter how much he was held or fed. Aloof and disinterested no matter how many little toys you gave him or how many games you played with him.

It grew a little easier the older a shard got, it became simpler to rationalize the feelings inside, and to allow for distractions. Dean and Castiel had been those distractions for Sam—taking him on their less dangerous hunts, going swimming or just running around. Studying only distracted him so much, but his people’s mage, Singer, was an understanding older man and when the gnaw became too much, and Dean and Cas weren’t there, the mage would summon flames and lights to make Sam feel more at ease. Singer was older than his own father, but the man with a bushy beard always seemed more alive than Elder John.

But if Sam didn’t find his shard soon, he feared that he never would. Dean and Castiel had found each other when Dean had been twelve summers old, but Sam was in his fourteenth summer and he hadn’t found his shard, hadn’t moved on to become a sum. Shivering even though it wasn’t really cold, Sam curled up in his blankets, turning away from the thatched roof. His mom had said he had nothing to fear, but Sam had never heard of any shards who had never become sums. What if something terrible happened to him? Sam couldn’t avoid thinking the worse and sometimes he would believe that if he didn’t find his shard, then he would become like those demons.

Transfigured into a black monstrous creature that would do nothing but slaughter his family and his people. Sam would dream about this and he would tell Dean, and Dean would tell him—like their mom—that he shouldn’t worry, that everything will be fine. _But that’s easy for him_ , Sam thought, burrowing down into his bedding further, _he already has Castiel and Castiel has him_. Fear settled in Sam’s gut as he thought about the scrolls and tablets that Singer would not let him read—Sam suspected that they had information about shards and sums in them, else why would the mage keep them from Sam?

***

A hand pressed firmly against his belly, Dean opened his eyes as the start of a new day bathed the plains in a pale orange light. Castiel was curled up tight around him, pulling him back against the shifter’s stomach and thighs. Realizing what was pressing up against the swell of his butt, Dean blushed, mouth going dry. They’d been waking up more and more like this, but he’d been afraid to say anything—fearful that Castiel would somehow reject him and he’d be left with that gnawing hole inside him again.

Even though the memories of his childhood were becoming ever more distant, Dean couldn’t forget that sense of never ending emptiness that finding Castiel had ended. So whenever his little—increasingly not so little—brother was keenly feeling that sense of not being himself, Dean could fully empathize.

“Morning,” Castiel rumbled low in his throat and pulled away from Dean, trying not to think about what he had had pressed up against the hunter. Before Dean could say anything, Castiel had rolled out of their bed and disappeared behind the larger boulder. He relieved himself while Dean packed up their meager bedding. Shifting back into his wolf form, Castiel stepped out from the boulder and yawned, his wolf jaws snapping back together when he finished.

 _Are you done?_ Castiel asked.

“Give me a sec, I need a piss too,” Dean grumbled and disappeared behind the same boulder that Castiel had used. Waiting, Castiel scanned the horizon, looking for any new signs of danger.

“There,” Dean announced, coming back round to Castiel. “Please say you know where we can get some water?”

Castiel did have an idea, he crouched down and waited for Dean. _It is some distance away, but yes._

Pulling his things on his back and making sure he had everything, Dean climbed up on Castiel and then the two of them headed towards water. While shifting had removed the worst of the blood from Castiel, there was no denying that the two of them were getting a little “over ripe” as Dean’s father would have put it.

A nervous energy passed between the two of them as they rushed through the chill morning air of the plain. If everything went according to plan, they could be heading home that very day, tablet in hand. The village was two days away, but to be homeward bound would be a great relief.

Slowing, Castiel padded up to a stream that was almost a river and allowed Dean to clamber down from his back. Normally they’d put salt down if they were going to be in one place for any length of time, but moving water made that impossible. So they took it in turns with Castiel keeping watch as Dean stripped and waded out into the water to clean himself.

Keeping his back to his shard, Castiel forced his awareness to focus on their landscape and keep an eye out for any potential threats. The great plain was nothing but tall grass, boulders and hidden burrows, and far away shifting herds of wild animals that would be a choice kill for dinner. Ignoring the sound of splashing water, Castiel kept to his vigil.

A wave of water struck him from behind, drenching his fur and drew a surprised yelp from Castiel. The water was cold, its source deep in the mountains, and Castiel spun round to glare at Dean who was waist high in the water. There was a massive grin on the hunter’s face and he looked to be struggling to hold back a laugh at the mischief he had wrought.

 _You…_ Castiel thought at Dean, tail pointed out behind him, damp hackles raised as he advanced towards Dean on the bank. _Are an ass_.

Dean grinned back at him, freckles standing out, and within the blink of an eye splashed Castiel again.

 _Oh, that is it_ , Castiel threatened and then jumped into the water beside Dean. Disappearing beneath the flow of chill water for a moment, Castiel then bobbed to the surface again, human and completely naked.

“Cas…” Dean said in an unsure voice.

Castiel threw his tangle of wet robes and small clothes onto the bank, and then dived for Dean, pulling him down underneath the water. The two of them wrestled and then burst above the surface again, each taking huge lungfuls. Pausing, Castiel couldn’t help the way his eyes raked down Dean’s body. A blush crept across Dean’s cheeks and colored his chest, and without even knowing he was doing it: Castiel paddled closer to Dean until the two of them stood in the stream, mere inches from each other.

Chest rising and falling, Dean looked like he didn’t know what to do with himself as Cas stood so close to him and completely naked. All thoughts of their mission had fled his mind as he drunk in the sight of the shifter before him. Even with his hair plastered to his head, Cas looked good enough to eat.

“Cas,” Dean whispered, unable to speak any louder as glacier melt flowed around them.

“Dean,” Cas whispered back.

Thinking that there’s no way this can end well, Dean began to back away, the soft sand of the stream bed swirling around his feet as he started to move. But he didn’t get far—Castiel grabbed his right wrist and pulled them together, lips finding Dean’s and the hunter couldn’t help the way he just opened to the shifter. Taking a moment to remember that his hands worked, Dean trailed his free hand down Castiel’s back while the two of them kissed.

The shifter let go of Dean’s wrist and wrapped both of his arms around him. Bodies pressing against each other, Dean gripped onto Castiel’s hips—hard enough to bruise. The two of them made out in the water, oblivious to anything and all that was around them, bodies eagerly responding to the long desired contact.

A low snarl from the bank snapped their attention away from each other, instinct kicking in. Castiel was transformed before Dean could get to his sword, but the shifter pressed the demon back away from the water and Dean climbed out, quickly finding the hilt of his sword. Drawing his blade out, Dean rushed the demon, heedless of the fact that he was naked and Castiel snapped down the monster’s hamstrings.

Snap. Snap. The demon toppled to the grass and Dean was upon it, sword raised high between his hands as he expertly drove the blade through the demon, running it through over and over. Blood arched up into the air, splashing Dean’s skin, but he paid it no heed as he made sure that the demon died. An otherworldly scream ripping out of the creature’s mouth, Dean pulled back from running through the monster’s chest and swung his sword down on the demon’s neck. Its head toppled off, bouncing along the grass for a few short feet.

The screaming stopped. Catching his breath, Dean looked to Castiel and Castiel looked to him.

 _Dean?_ Castiel asked, approaching the hunter and staring fixedly at his blood slicked skin.

Shaking his head, Dean wiped his sword on the grass. “Not mine.”

Castiel padded up to him and sniffed. _Yes, definitely not yours_. Glancing around, senses straining, Castiel could sense no other enemies on the approach. The demon smoked itself to nothingness.

Then Dean seemed to remember he was naked. He let go of his sword and scrambled back into the stream of water, focusing on the blood he now had to wash off, rather than the fact that he had fought a demon while naked and in front of Castiel.

Shaking his head, Castiel got back into the water, human again and dragged Dean into his arms before the hunter could get back out.

***

Noonday sun high overhead, Dean and Castiel paused at the start of the footway that would take up to the temple of Shur. The steep climb unfriendly to four paws, Castiel had shifted back into his human form. The steps before them were ancient and heavily worn, though covered in creepers that could withstand the warmer climate at the foot of the mountain. It looked like it had been some time since anyone had climbed up the steps to the temple, which was unsurprising. Worship of Shur had never been mainstream, the god mainly overlooked in favour of his siblings who supported hunting and farming, birth and death.

Shur was a god of mages and the wise, of those who imagined rather than hunted, of the ones who didn’t sift through the guts of life. Before he and Castiel had left the village, Sam had tried to explain the aspects of Shur to them, but Dean’s attention had drifted. Learning stuff like that just wasn’t his thing, Dean would rather find a better way to kill a deer or a quicker way to find water.

“Well we’re not going to get the tablet by just standing here,” Cas stated, looking up at the steps. A gentle breeze played at the edges of his blue robes, now dried.

“I know, I know.” Dean sighed. “C’mon.” The hunter started up the stairs, Castiel following at his side.

Climbing higher and higher, the odd mountain goat their only other company, Dean and Castiel remained quiet and subdued. To each other they each felt nervous—both worrying they had gone too far.

An hour into their ascent, Castiel decided he could no longer stand the silence. He cleared his throat and said, “Dean, about this morning—”

“Cas… I understand if you don’t want to do it again,” Dean offered flatly.

It was the opposite of what Castiel wanted. “Wait.” Cas grabbed at Dean’s right hand and the hunter stopped. “I do. Don’t you?”

Dean looked down to the shifter, heart swelling at the sight of Cas. “Y-yes.”

Castiel squeezed Dean’s hand. “We’ll talk more once we have the tablet.”

Unable to trust his voice, Dean nodded and squeezed Castiel’s hand back. Sure, give Dean a damn bear charging towards him and he’d shout coherently, but opening up about this? He’d spent so long not speaking about his feelings, trying to nudge them out of the way and hide them, because he knew his people needed him to not be distracted. Not while their lives hung in the balance.

“Regardless of the tasks we are set or the dangers we may face, you’re allowed to be in love, Dean,” Cas pointed out as they hiked higher into the mountain.

 _Is this love?_ Dean asked across their bond.

“I know of no other state of being that leaves me happy and feeling like I wish to vomit, jump and sing all at the same time.”

Stumbling in shock at Castiel’s words, Dean tried to gather his thoughts. “That’s pretty graphic, C—”

Several small stones rolled down towards them, skidding and skimming over the steps carved into the mountain. Dean and Castiel looked ahead and saw the looming forms of three demons.


	3. Chapter 3

Mage Singer had sent Sam down to the river in search of herbs and plants that he might use for certain spells. He’d said something about talking with another settlement that was a week’s ride away without actually going to them. The idea had fascinated Sam and so he had walked down to the river bed with no qualms.

The noonday sun beat down on the river, making him warm, but Sam had rolled up his green robes and cinched them so that his gangly knees, calves and bare feet were on display. Focusing on the local fauna by the water, Sam didn’t hear the shadowy figures approach him. But someone else did.

Sam was spun round by a blur of long blonde curls and shoved aside as teenage girl, Sam’s age, sprung upon one of the two demons that had been sneaking up on him. Coming to his senses, Sam started to mutter the words of a fire spell, his hands tingling, but the second demon struck his head before he could finish the words.

It had all been so fast, Sam hadn’t felt the ache inside of him go away the second he saw the blonde haired girl.

***

“Damnit, CAS!” Dean yelled as the shifter stumbled down a few steps, a demon slashing at his hide.

Dean’s sword swung through the air and swiped off the head of the demon he had been fighting. The first demon they’d killed was a smoking ruin on the stairs. Springing down the stone steps, Dean pulled out his dagger and landed on the back of the demon. He sliced the dagger’s blade across the demon’s neck and a cry died in the monster’s throat as it bubbled out blood instead.

Sliding off the demon’s back, Dean let it fall to the stairs and Castiel scrabbled away. This time the blood on Cas was some of his own and Cas tried to hold back the distress he felt, but Dean still came to him with a look of worry and concern on his face. It had not been an ideal place to face off against these opponents, but it wasn’t like they could run all the way back down to the foot of the mountain in order to stop the demons from having the advantage.

Castiel limped towards Dean and the hunter fell to his knees. He wrapped his arms around the shifter’s wolfy neck and held back a sob, instead coughing into the fur there.

 _You should have waited for me_.

_I couldn’t, he was going after me whether you liked it or not._

_Shoulda circled back up to me. I wasn’t flanked._

_Doesn’t matter now_. Castiel huffed by the side of Dean’s head and Dean agreed.

 _Still need to clean you up though_.

 _It’ll be easier if I turn back_.

Letting go of Cas, Dean waited as the shifter melted into his human form. Watched as fur became skin and cloth, hair and nail. Once a pair of blue human eyes were before him, Dean put his pack down on the stairs, and looked around for the healing supplies Mage Singer had packed for them. Sure he had what he needed, Dean helped Cas out of his robes, leaving him in only his small clothes.

Castiel’s right thigh had angry ragged gashes sliced into the back of it. He could feel them there every time his muscles flexed. Dean washed his hands, a needle and thread, and the back of Castiel’s thigh in some distilled traun extract, a spirit normally drunk during the longest night of the cycle. The spirit stung and made tears well in Castiel’s eyes, but he stayed still and quiet as Dean worked to sew up the wounds on his leg. He couldn’t help the pained whines that fluttered in the back of his throat as Dean worked. Dean hushed and reassured him, telling Castiel that he was doing well.

The wounds would carry back over to his wolf form, but at least they would be sealed up and clean, which was all Castiel needed them to be. It would hurt regardless until it had mostly healed.

Dean was experienced at patching up wounds, having done it many a time for the other hunters. If they had a wound that they didn’t want to scar too badly, they’d come to Dean for his fast and meticulous stitching.

“All done,” Dean announced and started to pack their supplies away.

“Thank you, Dean,” Castiel said as level as he good, trying not give away how much pain he was in.

“Cas, please,” Dean murmured, hugging the shifter in his human form. He didn’t ask for Cas to be careful, the hug asked that. Dean pulled away and pointed up the footway, there were still many stairs for them to climb. “Shall we?”

Castiel nodded and the two of them continued up towards the temple of Shur.

***

Opening his eyes, body swaying to and fro, Sam knew he wasn’t beside the river anymore. In the low light of the cage he’d been loaded up into, he could see the girl that had come to his aid: she was bound and gagged much like him. He looked at her—as the cage was pulled along on the back of a cart—and a feeling like his heart would explode seized his chest.

She was like him. A shard. She was his shard. But where were they being taken to?

***

The shadows were long by the time they reached the temple of Shur. Castiel stared up at the temple, the structure had been carved out of the side of the mountain, the stone was pale and golden. It wasn’t huge, but the ornately carved columns, with spiraling strands of stony ivy and the faces of men and women no one had seen in innumerable lifetimes cowed Castiel. You could feel Shur there, a tightness in the air that thrummed with potential.

Just like the ingredients of a spell, or a chisel before it was hammered into stone. Potential was all around this sacred place.

“C’mon, we’re not gonna find the tablet out here,” Dean muttered, pulling on Castiel’s robes. Castiel let himself be led towards the entryway, a ten foot by eight foot wide opening carved into the rock. There were no doors, the only hint that not all could pass into his interior was the lines of iron laid into the stone.

Glancing around inside, Castiel saw plinths carved from the mountain, mighty long tables made from mountain’s rock. There were places to sit and worship, study or create, but no one else was there. A fine layer of dust covered much that could not be touched by the outer elements, and no doubt snow would cover the temple in winter, but Castiel could see no damage that suggested this.

Heading deeper into the temple, Castiel shifted back into his wolf form and padded beside Dean. The space grew darker and they had nothing to make a torch from, so they relied on Castiel’s nightvision instead. So that he didn’t lose Cas, Dean placed a hand on the back of Castiel’s head while they walked.

 _It’s… kind of beautiful, don’t you think?_ Cas asked Dean.

_Kinda, sure… but also weird. It’s like no one’s been here in a long time and yet the place’s only got a bit of dust… Cas, why does no one come here anymore?_

Snorting as some of the dust made his nose tickle, Castiel replied, _I don’t know. It’s strange. You’d think the likes of Mage Singer would be here all the time._

 _But they’re not_.

 _Maybe they lost faith?_ Castiel suggested.

_I’ve always been told it’s a bad idea to seek out the company of those you don’t believe in._

_What a strange saying_.

Dean shrugged. _Just being polite, I suppose._

Castiel snorted again. _If we see Shur, we’ll tell him why we’re here_ and _start worshiping him_.

 _How do you think the demons keep finding us?_ Dean asked as they approached a set of heavy stone shelves filled with sealed scrolls and many tablets.

 _They’re drawn to anything that isn’t them, Singer speculates that they lack something that we all have_. Castiel gingerly sat on his haunches and stared up at the shelves in the gloom. _Singer said to look for a tablet that has a five pointed star surrounded by a circle of flames._

“Okay…” Dean replied, feeling like his question hadn’t been answered. “You could switch back and help me look?”

Dean could practically hear Castiel’s eyes roll, but the shifter changed back and started looking among the shelves with him. Hands brushing together here and there, Castiel wished they weren’t on a mission to find something to save their people.

Having found nothing that fit what Singer had described, Castiel turned to Dean. “Give me a boost, I’ll check the top shelf.”

Cas didn’t need a flaming torch to see the look that Dean gave him, but the hunter bent at the knee and put his hands together so that Cas could step into them. Lighter than he looked, Cas stepped barefoot onto Dean’s hand and the hunter easily boosted him towards the top shelf. There were fewer things up there, but the second tablet that Castiel reached for had the star and flames symbol clearly carved into its gray rock surface.

“I have it.”

Carefully, Dean pulled Castiel down as he clutched the stone tablet tightly in his hands. “What’s it say?”

Drawing towards a slit in one wall that acted like a window, a narrow stream of light coming through it, Castiel studied the tablet beyond the star symbol. The carvings in the stone made no sense to Castiel, he recognized nothing on the tablet.

“I can’t read it.” Castiel passed the stone to Dean, not that he expected the hunter to be able to succeed where he couldn’t.

Dean took one look at it and then handed it back. “What is that?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never seen anything like it before.” Castiel started back towards the temple entrance with Dean following. “Maybe if we have more light?”

The line of iron comes into view and Castiel steps over it, but the tablet doesn’t come with him. Instead the stone presses up against the air over the iron, like an invisible barrier is stopping it from passing over the threshold.

“What in Ell’s name?!” Cas cursed, which got a giggle from Dean. Castiel glared at the hunter.

“Sorry, I just don’t hear you curse that often.” Dean took the stone from Cas and tried to pass it over the iron, but it hit an invisible wall again. Dean pushed at the stone, but it wouldn’t pass.

“We can’t take it,” stated Cas.

Dean looked around the temple. “Maybe if we leave a tribute?”

“Sam said Shur accepts tribute in use of knowledge or in finding it or the creation of art… but I get the feeling that it’s not allowed to leave.”

Scanning the inside of the temple, Dean saw a small wooden chest tucked in on some shelves beside some scraps of parchment. Castiel stepped back over the threshold and Dean handed him the tablet. “I have an idea,” Dean announced and then wandered over to the parchment and chest.

Opening the chest, Dean found sticks of charcoal. He grabbed some of the parchment and charcoal and took it over to the tablet.

“Can I have that?”

Castiel handed Dean the tablet. “Dean what are you… doing?”

“Trying something.” Dean set the tablet on the floor and placed the thinnest sheet of parchment over the stone. Holding the paper and stone firmly in place with one hand, he used the other to rub charcoal at the carved indentations of the stone through the parchment. The symbols began to transfer onto the parchment.

He kept rubbing until he was sure he had everything, including the star and flames symbol. “Here,” Dean said, handing Cas the etching, “try and take this.”

Curious, Cas took the light parchment and tried to step over the threshold with it. The copied symbols crossed the invisible barrier fine. “Dean it worked!”

“See, not just a pretty face. Let’s put this back safe,” Dean pointed to the original tablet, “and get out of here.”


	4. Chapter 4

Castiel knew something was wrong as he and Dean stepped through the last of the forest that bordered the village to the north, the temple mountains no longer on the horizon. People were still going about their everyday chores, cooking fires burned, dogs barked, children ran, chickens clucked. But the people they encountered had a wary edge to them, like another demon raid might have happened in the four days or so that the two of them had been gone.

Walking through the village, somber looks followed them and Castiel tried to reassure Dean, but his shard knew what those looks meant. Knew that it must be something about John or Mary… or Sam. Matching Dean’s hurried steps, the two of them wound their way towards the hut that Dean’s family lived in.

Dean broke into a run and rushed into the hut. Elder John, Mage Singer, Hunter Jody and Elder Mary were sat in council around the table that dominated one side of the hut. Jody looked fierce with a wolf’s skull on her head, a fine trail of horse hair covering her own at the back. Her hand had naturally reached for sword she always wore while awake.

“Dean!” Elder Mary cried, getting to her feet and rushing to her son. Castiel felt a pang as he watched Mary hug Dean, he’d never known his own mother.

“Did you get it?” Elder John asked Castiel, eyes boring into him.

“We couldn’t return with the tablet,” Castiel started and a round of shocked hopeless gazes went around the table, “but! We were able to copy it.”

“Copy it?” Singer asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Where’s Sam?” Dean asked, looking around the hut.

An awkward silence gathered over everyone and Dean backed towards Cas. Without even thinking about what he was doing, Dean took Castiel’s hand in his own and twined their fingers together,  instinctively chasing comfort. If anyone saw this they made no mention of it.

“Your brother has been taken from us,” Bobby announced, voice somehow soft and hard.

“Taken?” Dean asked.

Jody steepled her hands in front of herself on the table. “Two days ago, demons took Sam.”

Discretely, Castiel rubbed circles into the palm of Dean’s hand, trying to get his shard to calm down in the face of such horrible news. Castiel felt Dean’s fear and anger churn inside him. All that was good was that Sam hadn’t been slaughtered, but why had he been taken?

As if reading Castiel’s mind, John shook his head. “We don’t know why Sam was taken.”

“But we know where he is,” Singer said, pointing at some parchment on the wooden table. “Tracking spell found him.”

“What are we waiting for?” Dean asked. “We need to go, now.” Dean shook his hand away from Castiel’s and pulled off his pack. He dug through its contents and pulled out the etching he’d taken of the tablet.

“Here,” said Dean, handing it to Singer. “That was what was on the tablet.”

It was becoming increasingly clear that the two of them wouldn’t be in the camp that night. Dean and Castiel turned to Jody. “How soon can we leave?”

Jody looked between the two of them, her eyes lingering on the signs of how travel worn they already were. But there was no way she could feel the guilt that was pulling Dean apart inside—guilt because he and Cas had probably delayed things on the second morning. Only Castiel felt that swell of emotions, aside from Dean.

“We can leave at nightfall. They’re a day’s ride away,” Jody explained.

“It’ll be faster if I ride Cas,” Dean pointed out.

“No way are you facing those things alone,” John barked.

The hunter gave his father a cold look. “We already have. More times than I want to count. We can take care of this. We’ll rescue Sammy.”

No way was Castiel going to argue with the conviction in Dean’s voice, nor the determination he could feel across their bond.

***

The crudely constructed cage had been hoisted down onto the ground of a fort. The structure’s wood was different to the fort—dominated the center of the winter hold—that his father’s people would hold up in the winter months. It smelled of sap and newness—it hadn’t been there long at all, wherever there was, but there was something that smelled like rotting eggs also underneath the sweet sap. Sam held back the urge to vomit, the smell made his stomach churn uncomfortably.

Looking over at the girl who had tried to save him, Sam felt the need to help her, more than himself. She was unconscious, having taken a hit to the head after getting her gag loose and spitting at a demon. But they were alone in that corner of the fort, in a side room with the glow of some distant fire lighting the limited space. It was warm, but not too warm, but Sam’s stomach ached from a lack of food or drink.

It didn’t matter why he was there, he and the girl needed to get out.

***

A shifter like Cas could run for longer than a horse and as fast. Dean would rather cling on to his shard, friend and partner—not that they had had a chance to discuss any of that—than be up on the back of a horse. Even though Cas had no siblings, hardly knew his own family at all, Dean welcomed the fervor that Castiel brought to their mission to save Sam. The shifter had only known Sam for six years, but Dean knew he loved Sam like a brother.

Following the information that the tracking spell had given them, they had reached the stronghold Sam had been brought to by the demons. Dawn light bathed the wooden structure, leaving much of it in shadow. But it was possible to see that the fort was new and larger than the one in the hold that Dean’s people weathered winter in.

Jody had tried to beg Dean to wait until they had reinforcements before they attempted to gain entry into the fort. Cas had spent much of their journey to the place asking for Dean to wait until Jody and a band of hunters had reached the fort with her.

“Right,” Dean whispered just loud enough for Castiel to hear him, “let’s scout this place out.”

_Just scout?_

_Just scout._

Castiel huffed and knelt down so that Dean could climb down from his back. The two of them stayed together as they circled the fort, Dean with his hand ready on his sword, Cas with his senses straining.

No one seemed to be guarding the exterior, but there was no indication as to how many demons may or may not be inside. Finding a narrow gap between some of the tree trunks that had been driven into the ground to form the exterior wall, Dean stopped and peered through it. His breath caught in his chest.

There was a man on the other side, talking to two demons in a strange dialect he did not understand. The man’s eyes were yellow, his clothes simple inky black robes, and his hair light brown going gray. Conversation ending, the demons left the man and Dean quickly slid away from the gap, hopefully he remained unseen.

 _There’s a human in there, talking with demons_ , Dean announced to Cas.

The shifter’s hackles raised on his back and he snorted the air. _That doesn’t make sense._

_Unless…_

_Unless what?_

_What if it’s a human in control of the demons? What if he’s the one sending them everywhere? Sent them after us. Sent them for Sam._

_We were looking for a way to destroy them_ , Cas pointed out, _it would make sense to stop us. But why do they want Sam?_

And that was still the question, aside from where Dean’s brother was being kept inside.

A twig snapped behind them.

***

The girl stirred beside Sam and he tried to ignore her, which felt cruel, but had to be done. He was almost there—could feel the tingle of power awakening in his hands, just like Bobby had been trying to get him to do all along. A spell didn’t have to be spoken, but it was far harder to get a spell to work without giving it a voice.

Focusing on the bindings at his wrists, Sam went over the spell in his head repeatedly, driving as much will as he could into those thoughts. His head ached, but suddenly the rope burst into flame at his back. He rolled and put the fire out, yanked out his gag and undid his ankles. Going over to the girl, Sam undid her bindings also and pulled the gag from her mouth.

“You with me?” Sam whispered, the girl’s face tenderly held between his palms.

Blue eyes blinked open and the girl smiled at him. _I have found you_ , she said. Only the words were not out loud, they were within Sam’s head.

Shocked, Sam leaned in closer to her and thought at the girl, _Are you a shard?_

She smiled and nodded. _And you are mine. We are sum._

The emptiness was gone from inside Sam. He wanted to cry and hug the girl so much.

 _My name is Jessica. I’m a hunter from the village of Missouri_.

Sam smiled in the low light. _I’m Sam._

_Sam, we need to get out of here._

***

Shoved down on his knees in front of the man he had seen, Dean glared up at him. The man’s eyes were yellow, even in the light cast by the lit hearth. They had been dragged into the main hall and an empty, ornately carved stone throne dominated the space. Wrists bound and sword gone, Dean could do nothing.

Dean knew of few village elders who had such extravagance, but then a man who consorted with demons was no village elder. Beside Dean knelt a human Castiel, forced to transform unless he wanted to witness Dean being raked open by a demon’s claws.

Inside the fort smelled of sap and rotting eggs, of fire and blood. It smelled like a bad place to die, but Castiel was determined that they would see an end to all of this. The man leered at the two of them, trying to intimidate them, but Castiel was having none of it, staring back defiantly at the man.

“You have some guts, coming here like this,” the man offered in their own dialect. “Stupid, but you have guts. Few like you running around these days.”

Dean and Cas remained silent.

“I’d have thought your mother would have remembered that I would be coming back some time. I’d promised after all.”

Dean tensed beside Cas. _Don’t say a thing_ , Cas ordered Dean.

“But Sammy sure has grown up big and strong. Still, I could do with more like him, like you in fact. The shards destroyed my world along with Shur. Time to return the favor, using Shur’s very own tools put on this land.” The man stood up and surveyed the room around him. “Yes, shards would make a better army to sweep this land with.”

The man stood between two demons and clicked his fingers. One demon turned into a puff of a smoke. He clicked his fingers again and the other demon met the same fate. In their place were two identical red gems, the fire in the hearth making them seem bright and bloody.

“Your brother will be more than a soldier of course, but—”

Yellow Eyes was swept off his feet as if by an invisible, powerful wind. He slammed into a wooden wall, dropping the gems. There was an almighty crack as the man’s neck snapped.

 _What the heck was that?_ Dean thought at Cas. Turning in their bonds, the pair of them saw Sam and some blonde haired girl approach.

“Sammy?” Dean asked as his little brother began hacking his ropes away with Dean’s dagger, which he seemed to have found.

Blade cutting through the rope around Dean’s wrists, Dean let Sam move onto Castiel as he got to his feet. The girl handed Dean his sword and his skull.

“Who are you?” Dean queried, cinching his weapons belt around his waist.

“Jessica.”

Sam freed Castiel and the shifter turned back into a wolf. _We need to go, now_ , Castiel thought, growling as well. Yellow Eyes was dead and there were no other demons to be seen.

“Okay, we’re leaving,” Dean announced. The other three nodded and Castiel led the front of the group as Dean brought up the rear.

They encountered no other demons as they navigated their way out of the fortress and once they’d made it past the front gates, they found Jody and a slew of other hunters waiting for them. Jody, backed by those other hunters, set the fort aflame and then they all started riding home towards the village.

 _Do you ever think something was too easy?_ Dean asked Castiel as they loped along, ten feet ahead of the horses.

It took a while for Castiel to reply. _Perhaps_.


	5. Chapter 5

Returning to the village warranted a feast like no other. Elder John and his wife were pleased to have their sons home safe. But as they gathered around a long table that had been set-up outside in the village square, the thatched, wattle and daub homes lit up by the mighty fire that had been built to roast deer and oxen, Castiel kept glancing at the girl Jessica. He was sat with Dean’s family, human and enjoying the food.

Hardly anything had been said of her since their escape, though Castiel knew she was not one of John’s people. She hadn’t left Sam’s side since the Yellow Eyed man’s fort.

“We’ll return you to Rufus on the morrow,” John proclaimed sudden and loud, talking to Jessica.

“No, father you can’t,” Sam piped up, voice far more mature than it had been just a cycle ago.

Castiel looked between Jessica and Sam, and he understood. “Jessica, Sam… that’s… congratulations,” he managed, happiness suddenly making it hard for him to speak.

Hearing Cas falter, Dean stopped the discussion he was having with Jody and looked between Sam and Jessica. “You’re a sum,” he announced, a huge smile coming to his face. “That’s great!”

Finally catching on, Elder John swallowed hard and stood. “Please a moment!” he called to the villagers gathered for the feast. “My son Samuel has found his shard—Samuel and Jessica are a sum!” John announced.

All that could be heard for a moment was the crackling of the fire and the sleepy calls of the village’s animals, and then shouting and cheering began as the people congratulated Sam and Jessica. Dean found Castiel’s hand under the table.

 _Let’s go somewhere quieter?_ Dean suggested.

A blush crept up Castiel’s cheeks, but they both rose from the table, gathering a flagon of mead and some bread stuffed with roasted deer and headed away from the feast. They hadn’t told anyone else their own news yet, but it was all so new, Dean wanted to spend a little more time enjoying it being between just the two of them.

During the ride back, Dean had forgiven himself for giving into his feelings when he had. Yellow Eyes confirming that it wasn’t chance that had led him to Sam had been reassuring in some ways, though less in others.

Going just beyond the edge of the village, the two of them settled down in a spot of grass just outside the forest with a great view of the night’s sky. The pine scented air was welcoming, and reminded Castiel of summers spent hunting with Dean. Simpler summers where nothing was trying to kill them but bears or wolves.

Eating their food, Castiel drew Dean into his arms and they kissed until they heard everyone else returning to their homes for the night. Finishing the last of the mead, Dean got the two of them to their feet and they stumbled to a hut that Elder John had set aside for them upon their return. Maybe Dean hadn’t needed to say anything, perhaps John and Mary could tell that something had changed between Dean and Cas.

***

“It… depicts a series of trials that must be undertaken by one. There’s three in total,” Mage Singer explained, looking at a series of notes he’d made on the etching. “That would close… some kind of opening that these demons have arisen from.”

“Yellow Eyes seemed to claim responsibility for all of this,” Castiel pointed out. He was sat beside Dean, John was also there, as was Kevin, a novice mage who had recognized the unusual markings on the tablet from Shur’s temple. They were gathered in Singer’s hut, Kevin looked scared and out of place in his green robes.

“There have been no demon attacks since the last New Moon. Since Yellow Eyes would have died,” John said in a low voice.

No one said anything for a moment.

“He said… the man said that he could use shards to make more powerful demons, but… he wanted Sam to lead some kind of army,” Dean explained.

Mage Singer and Elder John exchanged looks. Singer sighed and shook his head. “Mary had warned us.”

“Warned?” Dean prompted.

“That someone might come. Your mother almost died once, a bad horse fall. A stranger helped her, she was all alone. But he’d asked something of her. Asked for Sam, even though he hadn’t been born yet.” John rubbed at his face and Dean frowned. “Your mother made the deal and she survived, against everything, and returned to me.”

Singer glanced towards the books on the top of his shelves. Neither Castiel nor Dean had ever seen him with them, but they knew spellwork kept them shut. “It seems he was responsible for the raising of the demons.”

Elder John nodded. “We’re safe. The surrounding villages are safe. It would be unwise for us to ignore this information.” He waved at the the translation. “Should anything like this happen again, but I doubt it will now.”

 _He won’t listen to us_ , Dean said to Castiel.

_You still think the demons may return?_

“Stop that,” John grumbled, looking between Dean and Castiel. “We are done here. Return to your duties.”

And so they were dismissed.

***

Dean and Castiel were wed at the end of the harvest, just before the village returned to its hold for the winter. Instead of the usual gods that people asked to be sworn together with, Dean and Castiel were brought together in the name of Shur, in the hope that asking for Shur’s blessing would keep the demons away.

Returning to the hold, their wagons heavy and full with summer game, fruits, berries and nuts, all preserved and ready to sustain Elder John’s people through the cold winter that would be ahead. It was a long journey back to those safer lands, away from where the floods would come, but they made it all there in one piece.

Well, plus one more. One of the women had a baby and Dean’s people took that as a good sign, that their journey home was blessed, that life would continue, despite all that had happened in the summer lands.

Though there were complaints upon the return to the hold when Cas and Dean started to express themselves more physically. It took practice to keep their couplings quiet. When Dean had first realized that half the hold had heard them during their first time together as husband and husband, Dean had been unable to bring himself to his father’s table for a week. It took much coaxing from Castiel and an embarrassing amount of noise from John and Mary one night to convince Dean that it was just a normal part of being a couple. That these things happened.

But regardless of how embarrassed Dean was at times, Castiel could never escape Dean’s concern that the demons may return. That one summer, the killings would start again. And so in the halls of the hold, Dean and Castiel worked with Sam and Jessica to understand the three trials from the tablet.

Never did they speak of this with Elder John, though Mage Singer knew what they did. Sometimes Kevin would join them, apparently well versed in the imaginings of the gods. Together, they brought together much of the tools they would need to complete the trials, trading with people in other holds in the western mountains.

The winter was filled with more research and study than Dean had ever thought he would do and he came to enjoy the times on those brighter days when he and Cas would leave the hold and hunt. Riding Castiel’s back as they stalked through the snow in search of game, bow and sword with him. Helping to ensure that they only used the stores the hold had brought together when they really needed it.

But Dean never fully resented the task he chose to undertake, not when his dreams were sometimes haunted by those yellow eyes. Not when Sam sometimes woke up screaming and came to Dean in the middle of the night, Jessica at his side as he told them about people he swore he saw dying. Sometimes he knew when things were going to happen before they did.

So they continued to research the trials. Just in case another village was razed. In case they got the call.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments appreciated.
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr at [dreamsfromthebunker](https://dreamsfromthebunker.tumblr.com)


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